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Location: Dropship to GA FOB
Objective: GA contract
Allies: The Mandalorian Empire | [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Kad Tor"] [member="Artemis Lux"] [member="Jor Kvall"] [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Malika Mantis"] [member="Tal Vizsla"] [member="Tusk"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Galactic Alliance: [member="Aryn Teth"]
The dropship rocked and shuddered as the ship his the atmosphere of Dagobah. The fog and mist from the swamps below made the viewports look like holoscreen static as they followed the beackons for the GA FOB. The old Gurlanin stood in old duraplast armor mismatched colors and some sized just a shade off from the rest.
His shatter rifle sat buttstock down between his boots and lay against his shoulder as he waited for the killing to start. That was when he was useful. The times between the killing were just there to dig grave, build pyres, and clean weapons.
He did a mental gear check as he waited to land. His beskad, shatter rifle and shatter pistol were his main kit. Two grenade, standard baridium charge, and extra ammo would be enough to make untrained welps run home to their third rate mothers to lap their boo boos.
The silent red flashing light told him it was time to land. He stood and picked up his rifle, the pistol grip quickly tucked into the crook of his thumb and forefinger. The doors opened and he moved out to form a perimeter to provide cover while others departed for the Forward Operations Base. Killing time...and the living's easy.
If there was any way in the verse that could possibly coerce Srina into letting go the catastrophe that was known as the Golbah Games, bringing her into a makeshift warzone, and teaching her to use new weaponry was a good start. The slender apprentice had allowed herself to be painted and made acceptable for the highest of society on multiple occasions for her Master. It was an inevitability. To walk with the Vicelord of the Confederacy was to accept every unnecessary expectation and custom that came with it. To that end, she would execute her purpose, and follow protocol to the letter.
Dagobah was the last thing she’d expected when Darth Metus had summoned her. She’d never been to the swamp and forest filled planet before. Holo-tapes and research on the HoloNet told her the most important of things, the climate, the rotation period, grid coordinates, wildlife warnings, and vague, unsubstantiated rumors of cannibalistic humanoids that had once inhabited the area. Supposedly, they’d been reintegrated to society, but the meat flower was still an issue.
Half of the issue with this training exercise would be navigating the flora and fauna safely let alone keeping track of each other. Fun.
Srina had done her best to pay close attention to every tip and trick that Metus had provided. Thankfully, she was a quick learner. Normally, she could tune out distractions with ease, but there was the distinct sound of shuffling snouts not too far behind them, hidden in the tree line. Admiral [member="Aedan Miles"] of the Confederacy had expressed a certain level of concern in regards to the safety of her person. The Galactic Alliance had been kind enough to allow them to participate in the training simulations, primarily due to their ties to the SJO, but he held obvious reservations. Her Master was a Sith Lord, and while he could take care of himself, his presence ran the risk of attracting the wrong kind of attention.
So he’d sent a full complement of Red Fang Cragmaloids to the ground with them. They were not participating in the wargames, and merely hovered incredibly annoyingly, watching her every move. Srina was fairly certain that she wouldn’t even be able to stop for a bio break in the bushes without one of them appearing behind her. She’d tried, unsuccessfully, to lose them at various intervals. Was it paranoia talking to think that one of them had put a tracker in her gear? Or were they just that good at following her prints in the mud?
Oh, and that wasn’t all. Over the last few times they’d moved from one hill to the next for better cover she’d felt a pair of watchful eyes. It wasn’t malicious, far from it, but she knew them all too well. They belonged to a pixie-esque sniper that rarely seemed to miss her target. Srina didn’t feel challenged by the skill gap, but she would feel differently, if the experienced woman witnessed her failure. The Echani did not like to lose. ’I can feel you Ms. Vekarr…I have Darth Metus beside me…The Red Fang behind me. There is no cause for worry.’
The simple, short, telepathic burst was harder to send than she’d anticipated. Perhaps it was interference from Dagobah itself. She wasn’t sure. Regardless her mind merely brushed against that of [member="Katria Vekarr"] without intrusion. It delivered her message, the faint sense of amusement, before abruptly withdrawing. For a long time, Darth Metus had been the only person she was capable of communicating with, but things had changed. She’d grown stronger.
Just when Srina was about to pull the trigger she intuitively knew to stop. She turned her head to look at him, armor covered in mud, muck, and Goddess only knew what else. “Master?”, she questioned quietly, a streak of mud staining the porcelain setting of her face, though her hair remained mostly clean, bound it a high braided bun on top of her head. His upraised hand gave her patience and silvered eyes watched in silence.
His expression alone told her something wasn’t right.
Srina pushed herself up, resting on her knees briefly in the mud to collect the sniper rifle and the targeting pod. She folded it up and attached it to a small back sling before she also placed the rifle in the straps that were made to hold it. She raised her hand and met Darth Metus’ palm without looking. He seemed to know what she was doing without any need for her to verbalize it. The Sith Lord helped her up and she swung the sling over slim shoulders. It sat on top of an extremely thin backpack that contained only necessities. She kept things lightweight, so that despite her armor, and gear, she could still move and comfortably fight.
“Commander Tuusk…”, Srina called into her comm-link, having slowly gotten used to giving the Red Fang orders. If she didn’t it was highly likely that they’d follow along right on her heels. “Please continue to follow us at a very, very discreet distance.”
She then also patched in the Red Team fort as her Master marked their position. “The Vicelord and I are going to investigate the chatter that came through the channels. We’ll keep in touch.”
With that, they began to move out of sight from the rest of their teammates. It could have just been a ploy from the Blue Team to pull the Red Team from their target but something about the whole situation felt off. She followed the lead of Darth Metus but she remained exceedingly alert. Not far away she heard an explosion, the sound of a starship hitting the earth, and also the sounds of much larger ships landing.
Srina frowned. “Master…I thought all of the participants were already engaged. No one should be arriving now. Not in this sector…It’s the middle of the training area.”
That didn’t make any sense at all. Unless, those landing, weren’t there for the wargames. She mentally conveyed her worries to her Master but kept silent. Srina depended on both her ears and ears in this place. She had no want to step on an exploding mushroom while carrying a host of weapons and ammunition.
Side: The Galactic Alliance
Allies: Galactic Alliance | Confederacy | Mandalorians | Etc.
Enemies: Galactic Empire
Location: Outside "Home Base" scanning the horizon via drone relayed coordinates, Dagobah
Team: Red Team (relevant to CIS)
It was a unsettling nudge. Almost ghostly.
Accompanying the nudge was a chill down her spine, followed by the sound of a voice in her head. Instinctively the agent tilted her head in confusion. It was a sensation she'd never knowingly experienced, but one that struck her familiar all the same. It was the voice that accompanied the feeling that was more familiar than the sensation itself. And one that brought a characteristic smirk to the young woman's face as she began to make her way down from the perch she'd precariously placed herself in.
Not long after she'd reached the ground she picked up on the absence of Metus, Srina and even the man she only knew as Kenway. With a quick sweep over her left vambrace she quickly assessed that they'd each gone outside of the small makeshift fort and begun to explore the swamp outside. She was inclined to let them go about their business, doing their part while she did hers. Her job may not have been one that was assigned to her, but she was more than comfortable sitting back and taking her shots from a distance.
Venturing a few steps outside the tree, into the almost unbearably foggy exterior, the agent began to observe the environment. (Ignoring the condition of her boots now becoming covered in swamp sludge.) To her left was nothing but fog, foliage and the sounds of life sprawling in the distance. To her right, however, was a different case entirely. She could see an expanse of watery bog, filled with the occasional tree until the fog line faded it into a dark gray haze. While she was familiar with the concept of "fog of war" her only reasonable response was that this was completely ridiculous. If it hadn't been Metus' idea to come here for this mission, she'd have been content to lay around and sleep back on Geonosis.
As deeply immersed in that thought as she was, it was the sight of a flashing alarm on her right vambrace that tore her attention away from the scenery and internal contemplation. Tapping her fingers over the console, running through the convoluted code from the drone hovering out somewhere near where Srina and Metus had gone, she noticed quickly a signal that immediately identified as unknown. Unknown, but also conveniently foreign.
"Kenway, I've got something... Stay sharp." She breathed coolly as she lifted her rifle up to position, locked the stock in place and the scope to parameter, and began to scan the foggy line in the direction of the drone's location. While she couldn't see anything with her naked eye, the occasional flick of her vision to the vambrace on her right arm presented her with the information she needed to pinpoint the location of the anomaly. Tapping a few more buttons, directing the drone to zero in on the location of the anomaly in question, she traced the coordinates of the drone with the barrel of her rifle.
Whoever was out there, whatever was out there, it wouldn't be there for long. All she needed was a precise plot of coordinates.
Allies: Galactic Alliance Enemies: Galactic Empire Engaging: Random NPC's Music
Branches barely swayed, in time with the rustling of the wind across the swamps. One of the first things to do when hunting was to cut off a creatures avenue of escape, to leave them trapped in the hunter's favored terrain and forced to fight on the hunter's terms. Battles fought on the hunter's terms began in the hunter's favor.
It did not take long before the specter was staring at several Lambda-class shuttles in a large clearing, their tell-tale wings standing upright in the jungle. Pale blue eyes took stock of the surrounding area, searching for any prying eyes stuck to the canopy where it rested. Like a ghost the creature moved, falling to the ground in heavy jungle cover with barely a sound as the wind billowed across the canopy leaves.
Silence.
The shadow of death loomed behind Darzhur, waiting patiently while the hunter closed in on the weakest prey. Death did not press it's hunter to move faster, to claim more lives than necessary. Death simply waiting just behind the slayer to begin collecting the souls of those who fell to the monster.
Grass swayed up to his knees, each foot fall careful and calculated to cause the least amount of disruption among the grasses and the insects that were harbored there. The process took time to cover a very short distance, but it kept the hunter hidden in plain sight. Once he finally reached cover again, the pale blue eyes registered the enemy shuttles once more.
From behind vegetation, the specter tossed three small explosives at the landed shuttles wing braces. Without their wings, the Lambda ships would be grounded, and one avenue of escape would be lost to the prey who scavenged the world looking for their own prey in the food chain, totally unaware Death had chosen them to die. The explosives were small and colored to blend in, but the did not detonate upon landing or timer. The key to sowing despair was to provide hope and have it lost suddenly and swiftly.
The specter faded back into the jungles once more with its task complete.
Location: 'Red Home Base' Objective: War Games Allies: Galactic Alliance | CIS | Mandalorians et al Enemies: Galactic Empire et al CIS Team:Red
Dalton found himself rocking on his heels gently just…waiting. The sound of the apparent marksman - [member="Katria Vekarr"] – caught his attention that was lost among the hypnotic nothingness of the murky swamps, vines and creature noises. However, with a turn of the head, there was urgency in his eyes. Either something was off and that was what [member="Darth Metus"] and his cohort [member="Srina Talon"] had gone to investigate, or it was a sneaky scouting manoeuver by the other Confederacy team.
War games never were fair, but something in his gut told Dalton this wasn’t planned. He hopped down off the slate stones and walked with a slight urgency over to where the girl was stood looking down her rifle.
”Keep an eye out, ” he said calmly to the others as he passed by to where she stood.
Dalton narrowed his eyes a little, slowly slipping the E-11D off his shoulder and into the warm grip of his hands; left hand under the barrel, right hand around the grip and had the stock tucked gently up into his shoulder. He looked to where Agent Vekarr’s blaster was.
The planet around them seemed to slow down and quieten; the heart beating inside his chest louder than his breathing. Fingers relaxed on his weapon, Dalton stood with his back turned to Agent Vekarr and his rifle pointed down, just in case this was a friendly. Now and then the static from various open coms crackled and a few commands from the others came in, but nothing that was out of the ordinary.
Like a gundark, Dalton was alert and ready to act at the first sign of trouble – war game or not.
Dagobah 851 ABY DT-2417 Call-sign Pestilence Actual Post Two Objective: Locate and eliminate CIS command structure. Moving Toward & Engaging: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Dalton Kenway"] | [member="Katria Vekarr"]
Deeper down the rabbit hole they went though Pestilence were no longer alone. Whilst the opening moments had been crucial to push in as much as possible without detection, with the arrival of the AT-ATs and various Stormtrooper elements on the ground, whatever jobs the Alliance and their allies seemed to be undertaking within the endless swamps that surrounded them, no doubt their attention would be turned to the arriving invasion force. DT-2417's plan was, for the most part, going exactly how it sounded in the war room; the distance between them and the invasion force would in theory lead the Alliance and their assistance to make a front-line in front of the incoming heavily armed invasion force, leaving Pestilence to both hit them in the flanks and focus on their original target; the CIS command structure and later the Alliance local command structure should everything go as well as expected.
Wading through the swamp, however, was an unexpected hindrance on the other end of the Death Troopers. It made movement sluggish, the very world resisting their swift movement deeper into enemy territory and yet this wasn't the only thing. Where as before, Pestilence was a mere 13 men that could easily infiltrate, achieve their mission objectives without much interference let alone detection by the enemy force. Now? Now it was 72 black-clad troopers who spread out among the concealment on the path to their objectives. DT-2417, in truth, had never led this many men on a mission before and whilst on the surface he seemed calm, deep down within the core of the zealous Death Trooper, doubts were shoved into cages yet grew more and more with each passing moment. Despite this, the Major knew that now was not the time for doubts; Pestilence had a mission and they would see it through. The whole battle plan had the possibility of becoming all the more difficult should Pestilence be unable to play their part.
Moving up further still, the Major gave the order to halt through a swift hand motion that was passed along the lines. As the concealed Death Troopers heard the nearby movement. With such a sizable force, getting spotted this far out from truly being behind enemy lines, where Pestilence expected the command staff to be, taking the enemy out seemed like an action that would take only a matter of seconds. With several low garbles from DT-2417, smoke grenades were primed and tossed in a frontal manner to conceal their advance and give them the opportunity to wipe out the enemy on their move onward. From that point on, bounding overwatch was a must to keep a near constant ready defense whilst maintaining mobile; once the shots rang out, no doubt the enemy would come looking.
What Pestilence didn't know, however, was that their target was closer than they thought.
The injunction was unnecessary. As the Mandalorian dropships made landfall, the unloading warriors’ boots didn’t hit the ground – they sunk. Dagobah, though a remote and peaceful place, was not lacking in traps for the guileless.
Above their heads, a dense fog enveloped the swampy mire like a second troposphere. Below their feet, multifarious absorptions of mud and muck composed the closest thing to terra firma they would find. All around them, shallow lagoons twisted through gnarled forests of petrified wood, as sacred and ancient as the planet over which they kept vigil.
Dagobah was a place that commanded respect, if only for the dangers that lurked beneath its tranquil surface. Artemis, a first-time visitor to the mysterious world, made note of its unwieldy terrain in her HUD’s database. She was a meticulous woman who disliked being caught unaware and took pains to avoid it. Made killing, and staying alive, easier.
Golden helmet nodded to [member="Kal Ordo"] as he slipped away to cover their perimeter, just before she knelt to the earth and scooped a handful of thick sludge into her palm. Without ceremony, Artemis smeared it into the most visible parts of her gilded armor to dull its shine and blend in with the environs. Going forward, their modus operandi would take root in stealth.
Even the raucous battle cries that had once filled the Fleet were now swallowed up in silence, quelled into an internal thrill of anticipation that rendered the atmosphere electric. As she waited for the final transports to drop, and for the rest of the vode to join her, Artemis could feel the visceral pull of the hunt take root inside her belly and ignite something primal within her veins.
She wanted blood.
She wanted victory.
The Lioness would seek both as their company prepared to embark through the bog, onward to Forward Operations Base.
Location: Dagobah Swamps
Objective: Work things out with Koda
Enemies: GE and [member="Koda Fett"]
Allies: GA and their allies
When he recovered and she gave him the time he needed and he knew who had rescued him, she was surprised in how he reacted. It wasn't with anger, violence or thanks. Instead he was totally neutral about her. This was actually a good sign to her. Koda didn't want her dead or even harmed. While not the best, it certainly wasn't the worst. It was also how she felt, rather neutral. However, Jairdain in no way wanted to see him dead.
After he realized who was there, he chose to walk away. While she didn't have vision in her eyes, she may have had some control of their muscles and attempted to roll her eyes. She knew he couldn't use the Force, but if he could sense anything, that roll would also be felt. Letting out a breath, she would put her lightsaber away. Keeping her hand on its hilt though, she would start to follow him.
The animals avoided him, probably due to his dark aura of death and warning. It wasn't directed at her and she took advantage of it.
"You could have at least thanked me."
She kept a distance between them, but her voice carried and with his helmet should be able to hear what she said.
Their landing was quiet – Bolan, their pilot, was one of the ace raiders of the Corsairs. Had a steady hand from docking with a hundred freighters mid-firefight. They hardly disturbed a vine as they touched down among the towering gnarltrees.
Murky water the color of stale piss lapped against the shores of oversized moss – smelled like it too. Thank kark for filtration systems.
Just another pair of black stains on the mottled green background, the chirrup of a lively underbrush, and the distant crackle of tank wheels rolling over root—
wait.
Like always, the mercenaries worked alone. Still, as per their longtime working relationship with the Galactic Alliance, they enjoyed a certain level of access and communication. The nearest allied forces were about a click to the south. Which meant, of course, that this was...
“Company.” Aver switched on the live camo of her VF-1http://starwarsrp.net/topic/109681-vf-1/, warmed by the knowledge of what lay hidden in the device on her belt. Its time would yet come – perhaps sooner than she thought.
Since their arrival on Dagobah, Mirax had been unsettled. Between small shivers running up her back and hesitant pauses that marked her every other step taken, the young woman felt that the uneasiness which had accompanied her trip here vastly overwhelmed her initial bewilderment. If it were not for Cedric's presence, the Lorrdian would have likely jumped ship by now and returned to her precarious circumstance as one of the most unorthodox transplant surgeons in the galaxy.
I hope you do not regret me . . .
Glancing sideways toward the Jedi Knight, Mirax flashed him a small smile. Smiles were always encouraging, even if they belonged in another place . . . and time. Dagobah, on the other hand, seemed like the kind of setting that could only evoke a groan of dismay. There was very little here that could be deemed as remotely beautiful and even less that was edible. Although, to her great relief, food was not to be their greatest obstacle here - the smell of all things putrid and foul was presenting a much graver challenge.
Cedric was still looking her way as they sat cross-legged, facing each other. Something in the back of her mind echoed with a couple of questions he had posed what seemed like, an eternity ago. Was she once again allowing herself to become suspended in a singular moment . . . in time?
How does Dagobah compare to the other worlds you've visited now that you've opened yourself to the force? Does the forest speak to you? It has with me a handful of times--
"Much on this world seems infused with Force energy, master," Mirax began to say as Cedric's attention shifted all of the sudden. Visitors . . . Why did hearing that word make the young woman cringe inwardly, dominant hand sliding beneath the olive green cloak as if to feel the tactile reassurance of her blaster?
Emotion, yet peace.
The Lorrdian waited only for her master to draw to his feet before joining him in silence. She wondered if or when they stepped outside, they would be submerged in the same kind of hazy twilight that greeted them both upon arrival. Even now, Mirax could scent musty earth and rot, could hear insects buzzing.
These visitors that Cedric mentioned - where they friend or foe? Inborn sense of caution advised her against searching the Force for the answer - she was neither adept or clever enough to manipulate it, especially on a planet that teemed with its ubiquitous aura.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Correct. Mirax would have to gain an understanding of things as she studied her environment. Sometimes the most unremarkable things contained the greatest wisdom of all. Now she was almost excited to learn who it was that claimed her master's full and undivided attention. The anxiety she felt earlier was still in there (somewhere), but it was muted by the imminent discovery of something as unexpected as it was obscure.
Passion, yet serenity.
Every moment she would take to re-asses her situation up to this point, Mirax still could not believe she was here - with this man - doing whatever it was she committed herself to. The Jedi path. Her master feared its existence to be endangered and yet, he never abandoned his faith. Taking her under his wing took a great leap of faith - in his own sound judgment - and most of all, in her. At that very point, Mirax knew she could never turn back - and wherever Cedric Grayson aimed to lead - she was ready to follow. Whatever pandemonium awaited, her faith in the Force would quell all fear and doubt.
Silence. Silence is what Jairdain was met with initially, but as he trekked through the mud, his ankles and even calves became covered with mud, his head looking straight forwards and letting off a dejected sigh after hearing what she had said - after hearing that she too hadn't just walked away. Though he supposed she deserved an answer. After abducting her twice for information, and hell bent on killing her the second time, walking away wasn't in Fett's handbook of what little emotions he appeared to be in possession of. So he did give a response, it wasn't much, it probably wasn't enough, but she got one all the same.
"You could've just walked away..." His voice trailing off as the sight of a large lizard scaling a tree took his attention, "There's a price on a Jedi's head. Don't make me collect."He wasn't barking maliciously, except speaking calmly. Almost like a warning, but he knew deep down Jairdain wouldn't just turn away.
Koda kept moving, his pace the same if not slower due to the difficulty of traversing all this mud. Other than Jairdain, he was truly alone out here, and that's the way he liked it. Alone. Alone with his thoughts and alone with himself. There was no greater bliss than complete isolation on a dangerous planet that wants you dead. No greater thrill either. For Fett lived for the hunt, but in the end the hunt would catch back up to him. People in this business don't tend to last.
Location: Dagobah, Swamp Allies: GA, SJO, CIS, some weird dark siders, a K-Pop kid, and Blue team, and Red Team Enemies: Red team, sorta, malaria, lack of tonic water
The Commander in the Alliance was definitely serious. He was seen at one point to have deserted, and was working on re-establishing himself as one of the hot-shots of the Alliance. Someone for others to follow, and someone that others would follow into battle. He had the feeling that Nemo and Omai were out there watching. He wasn’t worried about the Grand Marshal from the side that Coren was the type to kind of go hard and rough with the Force, but still, to allow other Force users to follow his lead? That was a concern. He needed others.
And Nemo, well, he was the one to impress to get a command again, a ship of his own. And here he was, not in a starfighter, not off on some sort of SpecOps mission, no, he was working and assisting with training day, and the capture the flag game. It helped, and hurt, to an extent, that he could feel the Force here teeming around him. Still, he had to keep his head down and keep moving.
Why couldn’t he fly here? Oh right, because carpet bombing a frakking swamp didn’t work worth a damn. Still, he looked at his team. Some soldiers, the CIS, and that kid.
Still, getting to know who was around him. “Whats your deal, are you… like eight?” He had no idea. He was away for most of Jared and Kaia’s childhoods, so how kids worked was completely beyond him. And Jedi were weird anyway.
Her armour itched. They hadn't had time to find any of the more specialised gear the rest of Darth Metus' people used, so it was off the rack CIS battle armour.
She wasn't stupid, she didn't know the first thing about combat - let alone war games - but she didn't like the looks some of the rest of the Acolytes had given her. She hated feeling like she was out of her depth.
Never mind knee deep in mud in a 'fort' made of what look liked sticks, with her new awareness almost overpowered by whatever... whatever was near them. It was terrible and darkly wonderful. Perhaps that was why she was here? Or was this some very prolonged way of demonstrating to Er'in that she needed to learn faster? Wouldn't having Srina beat her round a salle - and arrogant or not, Er'in was darkly certain that kind of training was in her future.
So she kept out of the way of the CIS troops, away from her fellow Acolytes and kept her rifle on her back, despite the stun gun she'd been issued. She had shot before - hunting and the like - but there was something... almost supernaturally calming about the weapon. It kept her mind focused, sharp, the fear and the doubt that masked her life-long rage at bay.
No one expected an attack from this angle, so she'd been left as a living tripwire to guard it. A learning experience, she had no doubt Metus would call her pain, embarassment and unconciousness. She supposed she couldn't disagree, when she got off this muddy hole she was going to have a long bath... then have Srina beat her into a pulp until she learned something.
As the others began to move nervously, something in her mind flickered - nothing concious - just a sensation she'd learn to trust after a lifetime of surviving assassination attempts on Hapes, a dark trickle of certainty. Someone was out there - nearby or on the planet she couldn't tell, until a short while ago she'd never had known it was anything. But she knew to trust it now.
She didn't fumble as she set the stun gun she'd been carrying for the wargames aside and unslung her rifle, instantly feeling the world come into an alert focus. She just wished desperately she knew what to do - strategy she knew she knew. Tactics...
Fabian gaped, slack jawed at the thousands upon thousands of meters of unidentified, but unfriendly warships hovering malignantly near the swampy rock. He tried to find words, but for the moment they eluded them. What could the captain of a 255 meter frigate do against battlecruisers and heavy destroyers except die?
Slowly, Quincy closed his jaw, teeth gritting together so hard he thought they might break.
Did the Alliance have advanced warning of the incursion? They must have in order for this unidentified fleet to be present. And why were his sensors officers telling him that the scans showed Mandalorian vessels moving toward Dagobah's surface?
What an utter cluster.
So much for supporting the stealth of the initial landing ships.
I am going to need a bigger ship. Ah yes, genius Quincy. Why don't you put in a requisition order for one?
The bitter, self-deprecating amusement proved no tonic to what ailed him.
"Keep in line with the Resolution," he ordered. "Let's get our fighter squadron in the air. Deflector shields?"
"Forward."
"Good. Prepare the cannons." All eight of them. What terror they would strike into the hearts of that battlecruiser. Green eyes flashed with grim determination.
Objective: Put on the armor, investigate a disturbance... Location: Force caves beneath Dagobah's surface Allies: [member="Mirax Eygan"], [member="Coren Starchaser"] Enemies: [member="Desmond C'artyom"]
The great serpent began to coil as it prepared to strike. Cedric watched the astral creature from his mind's eye, his presence a quiet thing that did little save for observe the impending destruction. In that brief moment, the Jedi Knight saw promises of ruin befalling Dagobah. He beheld forest aflame and continents split asunder as the planet's very soul was consumed by the astral serpent. The scent of burning ozone filled his nostrils just as the images began to fade.
Dagobah was silent once again, and Cedric was left reeling against a cavern wall. The brief moment of warning had given way to a cry for assistance from the world itself. The caves' deep connection with the force had allowed a very real possibility for the near future to materialize in the knight's mind; its meaning was left entirely to his interpretation.
"This place is pure," a hand pinched at the bridge of his nose as he stood up straight, "It's untouched by the rest of the galaxy. The force has been allowed to do as it wishes with this place, and that's turned it into a mass of untamed life. You'll see both the light and the shadow within these caves, and you'll learn how to discern one from the other in due time."
The smile was returned, but worry gripped Cedric's heart. He wasted no time in gathering up his assortment of armor, slipping the phrik pauldrons into place along with his blackened cloak. Then came the gauntlets, and last of which the flame scarred helm. Cedric found himself hesitating to put the damned thing on, instead opting to observe the fine details of the damaged slab of metal.
"Keep your sidearm at the ready Mirax, and pay attention to your senses. The force has given us a warning, and it may very well give us another soon."
Another moment's hesitation passed before Cedric finally placed the helmet over his features. The sudden isolation he felt was instant as the armor regulated his body temperature to more comfortable levels. His movements were heavier as he gestured toward one of the paths that led deeper into the cave system. Slowed though he was, one would have little trouble telling; the force worked its great wonders to bring unnatural strength to his haggard limbs.
"We need to go deeper into the caves. I felt something wrong there; the nexus is calling to us." A click of his tongue keyed his comm in to [member="Coren Starchaser"]'s frequency. "Commander Starchaser, this is Grayson. I've been down in the caves with my padawan and we've felt a sense of urgency coming from the nexus beneath them. I don't know what is causing the problem, but we're going to see what the issue is before it can affect the war games. Send a team to my location if we don't check in within an hour."
A quiet sigh escaped Cedric's vocalizer as he turned to face Mirax. "And here I was worried your training would be uneventful."
"I can sense them in the swamp, general. Scurrying around like rats, unknowledgeable of the events that will come to pass today."
Drakar lightly breathed these words, looking as if deep in a trance, taking advantage of his everlasting bond with the Dark Side of the Force. The Bothan general looked somewhat troubled by the mysticism of his superiors, looking from the inquisitor to the drivers who were too enthralled in their task of navigating the turbo tank through Dagobah's unorthodox environment.
"The fleets have arrived, my Lord. Rear Admiral Mitth'rae'leios is leading them, and although we are outnumbered likely, he is an excellent tactician by any means." The general affirmed, earning a small smile from Drakar. "While to outnumber one's foe is favourable, to outmatch them is an advantage in itself...If what you say is true, general, then I suspect the admiral will have no issue taking care of the Alliance Navy." The inquisitor mused, "But there, we shan't worry about the space battle until we take care of our mission down here. Are the swamptroopers ready for mass deployment?"
The general nodded in acknowledgement. "Good...good, prepare to send them out on my order, I will bring them their prey..." Drakar stated, wetting his upper lip in anticipation. He clasped his hands and lowered his head, discarding the invisible disguise that hid his presence in the Force from his adversaries, then he reached out to connect with every 'visible' Force-sensitive in the vicinity.
One that was at the very least adept in the Force would feel the temperature drop steadily, something they could stop with little resistance from the phenomenon. But what they would sense afterwards was a looming darkness, something so terribly steeped in the Dark Side that the light-hearted might feel ill. They would be able to find the source of it easily:
A man who's heavy brow offsets the damaged recesses that embrace his eyes, a master with the uncanny ability to absorb and overshadow one's connection to the Force.
A dark cloud.
High Inquisitor Drakar.
[member="Trextan Voidstalker"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Xin Boa"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Armaud Eden"] | [member="Ellifain Eden"] | [member="Aver Brand"] (He doesn't 'connect' to you because he doesn't know that you're an FU, but you might sense it yourself. Same goes to others if you weren't 'visible', I might've missed it so I apologize.) | [member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] | [member="Rapax"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Er'in Tenel"]
Location: Dagobah
Allies: Alliance/CIS/ORC [member="Sanya Val Swift"] [member="Aedan Miles"]
Enemies: GE [member="Mitth'rae'leios"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]
Directly engaging: [member="Fabian"]
Music: In the name of Bern
Each second before reversion added to the stress in all the pilots inside the flotilla's hangars. They were anxiously waiting for the moment to fly and deploy in Dagobah's orbit, which, as per these wargames' rules, meant that they were to attempt locating a cloaked corvette without using crystal gravfield traps nor the Force. It was not going to be easy; usually ships with cloaking devices had thrust trace dampers and other stuff of that nature. They hoped that this naval exercise was going to help them in the long run, especially since the ORC Navy seemed to groom Janick to greater glories, more responsibilities than what can be given to a senior commander on the cusp of captaincy. And not just because of her seat on the NIMB, of her work among that body. Blue streaks of hyperspace flight ended, and they reverted at long-range turbolaser range from the nearest Imperial element (@Fabian) which, in Janick's mind, was just the Imperial rearguard. How the Imps were able to establish targeting solutions so quickly was bewildering. Yes, the Compellor was a big, fat, slow target, that can be readily hit using long-range weaponry, but they weren't firing with eight long-range turbolasers, so the dissipation over distance made it so that the eight turbolaser hits only registered very limited damage to the battlecruiser's shields. As the squadrons get deployed in space:
"Imperial fleet detected" the flight controller reported back to the group. "This means that there is not going to be war games at all; this is not a drill"
"Poodoo" Griet announced. "War has actually come to Dagobah; we must do whatever we can to defend the planet and its shipyards!"
"Awaiting orders" Wololo told back on comms. "Those games are over"
"These Imperials are not the end; I can sense it. There are more Imperials lurking about, closer to the shipyards. Alakaha Wing, fly within standard turbolaser range of the enemy, pick your targets, launch your cluster missiles, then return back to the fleet. All other units, stay behind and screen the fleet; try to target the escorts and its fighter screen whenever possible"
"We're about to get some cover fire from the fleet"
"Bothawui shall be avenged!" Janick let out as a battle cry.
"Wololo, wololo" Wololo continued.
And so the seven squadrons of Alakaha fighters making up Alakaha Wing sped off in the vast blackness of space, with their cluster missiles being armed, waiting until they were reaching standard turbolaser range of the nearest enemy ship. They made their approach under the cover of heavy long-range firepower, with all three Imperial rearguard ships being in their crosshairs: most importantly, the enemy rearguard flagship, the Vindicator. That cruiser had a veritable cornucopia of long-range firepower fired at it head-on from both the Compellor and the Swan Lake: the equivalent of 882 turbolasers in heavy long-rangeturbolasers, 366 in heavy long-rangeion cannons, 700 in hypervelocity cannon rounds and 80 in heavy long-range solar ionization cannons were fired at it. And also sixteen stealth MIRVs, containing seven concussion missiles apiece in each bus, which were released at point-blank range from the Vigil frigate, shortly after decloaking. Meanwhile, the three picket corvettes fired all thirty-six energy torpedoes, flying at 1/5 the speed of light, they could at the ship they called the Indictor on sensor screens. Upon approaching the designated area, that is, within standard turbolaser range of the frigates, the first volley of 84 cluster missiles is being fired for a total of 420 submunitions, that is, concussion missiles, of which about 150 of the submunitions are fired at each frigate, and the final 120 are fired at enemy fighters, prior to their launching platforms returning to the fleet:
"Wololo, Fox 3"
"Enchantress Actual, Fox 3"
"Alchemist Actual, Fox 3"
Fired from long range at the Vindicator using the Compellor and Swan Lake
Fired from long range at the Indictor using picket corvettes
Used seven squadrons of fighters to launch cluster missiles at the enemy frigates and fighter screen
Candez didn't know how he got himself into these sorts of messes. He had been signed up as support staff for some one, and then the next thing he knew, the duros was waiting just inside the entrance to some caves. He sat there, playing around with some of his equipment. He had been asked to come along, and with his wild sense of adventure, how could he turn it down? So of course he came along. Although he did not know he would be sitting about, waiting for them to come back. Or for himself to be sent in, if they took too long.
He made a quick connection through comms to someone he had heard was also here, in case the ones that went in needed help. "Hey, Coren was it? Did they mention how long they would be? This swamp is really messing with my boots 'ere." The last time Candez had gone on some journey that was Force-Related, he faced some scary things that he still got reminded of. Little did he know, there was something bigger going down on Dagobah. "What are they doing down there, anyway? I got a bit, like it has something to do with the force, but I stopped listening halfway through" he added to that, tinkering with one of his blasters.
Alarms screamed and the bridge crew started to frantically shout orders as the hostile fleet fired everything, and I do mean everything, at the three Imperial ships.
Fabian held his hand up to his face and began to nervously chew on his fingers as he watched space through the forward viewport suddenly erupt into a skein of prismatic colors, each of them a different shade of death for him and his crew.
"Captain," Midshipman Wills caught his attention, "The Abracadabra is initiating electronic countermeasures."
"Mm," Quincy had a hard time believing the Indictor II-class electronic warfare frigate could do much against the incoming barrage, but that was the point, right?
A nearby star destroyer from the initial incursion fleet extended the range of its shields enough to temporarily envelope them, but Fabian wondered if it would be enough.
"Orders from the Resolution, sir, evasive maneuvers, then fullspeed ahead."
Fabian frowned. "Get us underway."
It made sense to close the distance. At point blank range, weaving in between the more numerous enemy vessels, they would actually have an advantage. The problem was closing the distance.
Fabian braced himself against the bridge pit railing as the ship bucked, catching a cluster of turbolasers from the enemy. The fact that they were not disintegrated was probably a combination of the range, the small size of the frigate and its maneuverability, and the jamming capabilities of the Indictor.
"Shields at seventy-five percent and holding, Captain."
"Hm?" Rear parked itself on one of the wider branches, letting her legs swing through the heavy, moist air. Fingers dug through the cracks in the root-wrapped wood. Curved shoulders shrugged, golden-lime gaze peeking out from the curtain of dark, green tinted hair.
"I didn't hear it."
Eyes went back to her task, fingernails digging in further, gently coaxing out a small plant. Gently, gently....there. One hand held the Avabush gingerly while the other began to pluck off some of the muck and grime from its violet leaves.
"I just picked words to match what I saw. There were other things too. Giant machines made out of metal with legs that boomed like thunder when they walked."
Another shrug rippled through her shoulders as she went back to cleaning off the plant before gently placing it in her satchel. The Nagai-Firrereo always saw different things. This was all perfectly normal. Sometimes they happened and sometimes they didn't. The girl just assumed everyone saw all the things she saw. Another hum left her mouth.
